


You'll Get Yours

by quantumoddity



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon Compliant, Casual Sex, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, Rimming, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 09:49:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21444253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quantumoddity/pseuds/quantumoddity
Summary: Molly is now the proud owner of Summer's Dance. And the person who gave it to him deserves a reward.
Relationships: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 12
Kudos: 304





	You'll Get Yours

Molly wasn’t used to holding himself still but he made an effort now. 

So much of his life so far, what little of it there had been, had depended on his knowledge of other people, his ability to know them quickly and make predictions about their behaviour. In fairness, this was hardly a life or death situation, there was very little at stake from his point of view. A bit of embarrassment, maybe. Having to eat a fair amount of crow for Yasha. 

The tension he felt as he held very still under the thin, slightly damp covers was for someone else. That was something relatively new to Mollymauk; having a dry mouth and rapid heartbeat on account of someone else’s feelings. 

He tried not to think about what that might mean. 

His ears picked up, hearing footsteps passing the door to his room. Hard footsteps, almost angry but with a quality that suggested they could quickly become silent if they needed to. Beau. Not long after, lighter ones with a gait to them almost like skipping. Jester. Scrabbling ones, skittish and rapid. Nott. Molly listened carefully, hoping in silence. And finally, all three sets fell silent at the same time, muffled behind a creaking door not too far away. Yasha’s most familiar footfalls came soon after, going the other way down the hall. 

Molly grinned. He didn’t know what Caleb had said to Nott, to get her to room with the girls. He’d thrown him a quick, exasperated look across the table when he’d grabbed the ‘feeling sick and needing to go lie down’ excuse first. That was Caleb’s go to. But Molly felt this whole thing would soon become less fun if they didn’t challenge themselves.

Soon there came heavy footfalls, easy and rolling. Fjord. This bit would be slightly tricky but Molly felt some confidence. Fjord seemed to have taken their trip into the swamp harder than the others, likely something to do with the gemstone eye. 

Something about that whole episode worried Molly, a feeling he was certain the others shared. But that would have to come later.

Molly stayed with the covers pulled high over his head, as the door to their room creaked in protest at being opened. Fjord’s breathing seemed a little heavy as he moved around a little, tossing armour to the floor with a leather and metal thump, hanging his sword up on the wall. It wasn’t long before there came the heavy material sigh of him nearly collapsing into bed. 

A little more anxiousness for his roommate plucked at Molly but he waved it away. Now wasn’t the time. 

While he was waiting for Fjord’s snores- Molly held a lot of pity for whoever had to share close quarters with him on that ship of his- there came the last set of footsteps he’d been waiting for. 

They were quiet, like everything else about him, trying hard not to be noticed. As quiet as the four other little feet that followed on his heels, along with the sound of a fluffy tail sweeping the dusty boards. 

It may have been Molly’s imagination, but he couldn’t help but notice the slight hesitation in those footsteps outside his door. Just one missed beat. Almost as if Caleb was hesitating, looking towards their room, before moving on to his own. 

Thinking about him? Wanting him, enough to resent even the short amount of time between this moment and the one where Molly would steal into his sheets? 

He bit his lip under his nest of covers. He didn’t know what he was supposed to want. 

Eventually, that hacking snoring he’d actually come to find kind of comforting started up from the bed across the room. Molly counted another two minutes, feeling them stretch on for a minor eternity, before he felt safe enough to carefully fold back his blanket and stand. Nothing from the lump of scratchy wool in the other bed. He’d mapped out where the noisy floorboards were on his way in and knew how to step lightly and avoid them. 

Still, he didn’t relax until the door softly closed and the sound of Fjord sleeping was dampened to nothing. Molly allowed himself a triumphant little smile then, happy to know his talent for sneaking out to go meet lovers wasn’t diminishing with time. 

He counted the doors on his fingers as he quickly crossed the corridor, making doubly sure he was about to open the right one. He’d have a lot of explaining to do if it wasn’t. 

Molly checked that the belt around him was secure, that the magnificent golden scimitar rested just so against his bare leg, the metal cold enough on his naked skin to start getting him a little excited. He felt like a character in one of those trashy romances Jester was getting such a taste for. And, of course, he loved it. 

After a soft rapping of his knuckles against the wood, Molly turned the knob and slipped inside. Immediately he felt the lovely prickle of Caleb’s eyes on him and when he turned, they were so satisfyingly wide, stunned and hungry. 

“I said you’d be getting yours, Mr Caleb,” he purred, voice low and smoky, “Ready to have it?”

“Fucking hell,” came the raspy reply, the accent heavy in his sleepy, distracted state. 

“Looks good, doesn’t it?” Molly let the gorgeous golden sword swing at his side as he steps languidly towards him, aware of some other things swinging too. He prayed it looked sexy rather than ridiculous, “Thank you for it…” 

“It just seemed meant for you, Molly,” Caleb’s cheeks turned bright red in that adorable way they always did and he shuffled under the blanket, the one Molly was itching to rip away and find him naked under. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” Molly admonished, close enough to raise his leg on the bedpost and lean against it which, of course he did, “Don’t think you can so casually call me Mr Mollymauk and think that isn’t getting brought into our bedroom, love.” 

A giggle burst out of Caleb, lighting up his face, “Okay. Mr Mollymauk.”

Yep. It still gave Molly the same wanting lurch in the very pit of his stomach, same as back in the cave. 

“You look like a pirate,” Caleb was still giggling, looking like he didn’t quite know where to put himself with all of the energy inside him. 

Molly grinned, his teeth flashing. He drew the sword in one hand, letting it flash and sing through the air before coming to rest at a very safe, playful distance from Caleb’s face. 

“Oh? And who are you, the treasure I’ve come to carry off at swordpoint?” he murmured, eyes glowing like embers. 

Caleb looked like he was going to struggle to form words until he managed to choke out, “I’d like that.”

Molly nodded, some curls falling artfully in his face, making sure to still show his teeth and keep up this character he’d stumbled into, “Then on your back. Legs up,” he let his smirk billow out, “Surrender.” 

The noise Caleb made was heaven itself. It made the newly acquired Moonweaver symbol around his neck feel warmer than any metal had a right to. 

The sword, the beautiful, wonderful sword, was cast aside with half a thought. Caleb’s thighs and what was between them proved much more interesting. Molly bent down between them, breath hot against skin which soon flushed accordingly, as if the red blush that spread there was actually his breath etched onto the inside of Caleb’s leg. 

Sex with Caleb was always different, each and every time. Sometimes he would be tense and it would be Molly’s task to undo the knots inside him with his tongue, his hands, his cock. Sometimes he would be whimpery and wanting, unable to find words but showing in other ways how desperately he wanted to be made to come over and over until he was boneless and blissed. Sometimes he would giggle a lot as if amused by his own responsiveness, his body’s own hunger, utterly bemused. 

Sometimes Molly would draw back and find Caleb crying. It had terrified him at first but when he’d asked if he should stop, Caleb had looked and sounded as if his heart might break if he did. 

It was always different but every time Molly would get the strong sense that everything Caleb hid so carefully behind his deadpan voice, his guarded nature, even his enormous, patched coat, was all coming out in one desperate release. 

And Molly would take it all ravenously. There was something so thrilling about seeing sides of Caleb that no one else did, like every time they fucked he was being given secrets along with the touches and tastes and screams. And Molly positively adored secrets. 

Tonight, Caleb was unrestrained and noisy. Molly’s breath had barely kissed the skin between the base of his cock and his ass and already he was audibly keening, shaking all over. 

“Easy,” Molly soothed, realising very quickly that his task tonight would be to relax him, give him a way to shut out everything clanging and jangling inside him, “I’m here, love, it’s alright. Just focus on right now, yes?”

Caleb gave a tight, rapid nod. He would get there. 

Satisfied, Molly rested on his stomach and stroked Caleb’s leg with one hand, “Well, prepare to be boarded, Mr Caleb.”

That got a groaning laugh out of him, “Gods above, Mollymauk…” 

Cackling at his own ridiculousness- his favourite pastime- Molly leaned in and lost himself. He ran his tongue in a broad stripe across Caleb’s perineum, tasting the heady muskiness of the wizard’s skin, a taste he’d so quickly become addicted to. He was rewarded with a whimper, a sound like Caleb was about to burst, so he saw no reason to wait. His mouth wandered down, to where he grew tighter, warmer, tongue pressing gently for entrance. 

Shuddering and keening, Caleb yielded to him eagerly, allowing the tip of his tongue to press inside and seek out the bundle of nerves he knew would very quickly get them where they needed to go. As his mouth worked, Molly’s hands lightly skated up and down Caleb’s legs, anchoring him, keeping him in the here and now. Every so often, he’d let his nails bite in a little, just to feel him jump and hear him groan. 

Soon, Caleb was utterly lost, riding Molly’s mouth in earnest, making the headboard thump rhythmically against the wall. The tempo picked up pace, gradually getting faster and more frantic, as the flush spread to Caleb’s chest and soon he was cursing in his own harsh language, muscles tensing for a new reason. 

Molly knew how to read the signs, even as drunk as he was on Caleb’s body. And just before his wizard would be in real danger of tipping over the edge, he drew his tongue back and pulled away, panting. 

Caleb positively howled, “Molly!” He threw himself into a sitting position, eyes wide and wet, pleading. 

Molly laughed gently, “Come on, Caleb, it’s okay. I just want to switch it up is all. You’ll get yours, I promised, didn’t I?”

Caleb relaxed a little, “You promised…”

This was Caleb on the very edge, short sentences, repetition, a thicker accent. 

“I did and I never let you down,” Molly nodded, horns jangling, “Now keep your voice down before Nott hears and thinks I’m murdering you.”

He didn’t think it was possible for Caleb to go redder than he already was but he was wrong. 

Molly soothed him further with a lingering kiss while he lined their bodies up, now aware of his own need, so strong it was a shade away from painful. He could feel Caleb in a similar state, hard, hot muscle pressing against his lower belly. Kissing wasn’t something they’d done a lot of since they started sleeping together but whenever they did, Molly could never figure out why. Kissing Caleb was deliriously good, feeling his stubble scraping against his chin, his quickened pulse in his throat. 

He would always remember why later, when he felt the pang, the one that accompanied the realisation that kissing was too close to something like a relationship. But in the moment, it was always so good. 

Caleb always kept a vial of oil in one of his many pockets these days and he summoned it to his fingers from across the room with a mumbled word. It always amused Molly greatly, to see him using his brilliant, hard won magics just so he could get fucked faster. This one was teardrop shaped, wrought in red glass and the liquid inside smelled like spiced cherries when Molly yanked the stopper out with his teeth and let it drip onto his fingers. He’d never concerned himself much with how his lube actually smelled but he knew Caleb got hooked on certain scents, the same way he did with certain textures. Molly wondered if anyone else in the Nein knew that Caleb kept scraps of velvet or polished chunks of sea glass in his pockets, not for any spell work but just to hold when he felt nervous.

“Take it your good and ready for me?” Molly purred, running his slick fingers up and down his erection. 

“Thanks to you,” Caleb murmured, voice husky and low and unbearably sexy. 

Molly gave a light laugh and bent to kiss him again, just because he was a glutton for punishment. But then Caleb’s legs fell open and his hips moved just so and suddenly Molly was in him, sharing his body, and nothing else mattered. Not even the thorny truth that the more they kissed, the more it felt like they were playing at something else rather than living what they had. 

“Mollymauk…” Caleb gasped. The way he said his name was darling, the way the first two syllables ran into each other and the whole thing softened. 

“I’ve got you,” Molly whispered back against his lips, sending the words right down his throat, “It’s all yours.” 

At those words, Caleb took it. His hips fell into an easy rhythm with the tiefling’s, their bodies knowing by now how to fit and work together. The rough heels of his feet pressed into the small of Molly’s back, urging him on, locking them together like neither could bare even an inch of space between them. Molly sucked hard at Caleb’s neck in answer to every moan and whimper he was given, leaving marks he knew would be covered by the high collar of his coat but would prickle all day tomorrow and leave Caleb thinking of him. 

Soon there was so much slick between them that Molly had to fight to keep on top of things, bracing his hands either side of Caleb’s head, panting heavily. Caleb’s cries grew more ragged and desperate, wavering with the force Molly was slamming into him with. All the taut, wiry muscle he used to whirl his swords fast enough to cut the air itself was focused utterly on hitting that sweet spot inside of him.

“Molly,” Caleb’s voice cracked, “I’m gonna…”

“It’s yours, love, it’s yours to take,” Molly gasped back, going slow but deep now. He drew back enough to watch Caleb’s face, wanting to memorise every flicker of muscle. 

He finally came, from nothing but the pressure inside him, with a throaty groan and an expression of hard won bliss on his face. Molly was so lost in Caleb, his own orgasm gripped him and he cried out in shock more than anything. And in the last second, it became Caleb’s name. 

That hadn’t happened before. 

Caleb was in pieces beneath him but Molly helped him get back together, kissing his cheeks, his nose, his chest, picking up his hands and kissing every one of his knuckles.

“Look who's back,” he laughed raspily as he saw awareness dawn in those harsh blue eyes. 

“Ja,” Caleb laughed back, sitting up a little and moving back so Molly could pull out, “That was pretty amazing.”

“Well, it was a pretty amazing sword,” Molly smirked, hoping that would take the edge off him saying Caleb’s name. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do with that yet. 

It made his wizard laugh in any case, only making him look even more gorgeous in the rumbled, tumbled way he always looked after they fucked. Molly found himself laughing too, giving him more kisses. Each one a low grade bad idea. 

While Caleb came back to himself, Molly stood completely naked in the middle of the room and practised with the sword, testing the weight of it, watching how the light played off it when he swung it. The gold wouldn’t hold up much in a fight but it was a gorgeous decorative piece. 

“Summer’s Dance,” Caleb murmured, watching from the pillows, “It’s a lovely name.”

Molly nodded, holding the name in his mind. He thought of summer. He thought of warm nights, sleeping on top of his circus caravan with Yasha. He thought of the taste of that cherry wine he could only find in summer. He thought about the hot days, where Caleb would shrug off his coat when he thought no one was looking, rolling his shirt sleeves up to his elbows. When his long hair would stick to his forehead and he’d wipe it away, tuck it behind his ears and look so beautiful doing the simplest things. When he’d lie back and look at the stars and once, when Molly asked, he told him all of the constellations, so clear and bright in the darkness of the summer night. 

“It is a lovely name."

**Author's Note:**

> Please consider leaving a comment if you enjoyed this! I'm also over on Tumblr, @mollymauk-teafleak


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